


It's Good To Talk

by DivineVarod



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Male Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Pre-Slash, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivineVarod/pseuds/DivineVarod
Summary: What was Lister up to now? Rimmer felt panic rise inside of him.Was Lister joking about his mental health issues? Or worse had he … noticed something and was this an intervention? No smegging way. He was acting Captain, in charge. There was no way he'd ever show weakness. He pushed the tape away from him so harshly it fell of the table.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	It's Good To Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after series 12.

Arnold Rimmer looked up from his book in annoyance when Dave Lister stomped into the bunkroom. He was unwinding with a cup of tea after a long day and really wasn't in the mood for any noise Lister would undoubtedly start producing.  
In fact, he wasn't in the mood to say anything to the Scouser at all. He was still angry with the Third technician after he had left him locked in the garbage deck and then for barely acknowledging he had actually left to find a new life, only to return with nothing. He hated his disappearance being taken so lightly and had not spoken to him since.

Any sassy remarks he might have thrown towards the Scouser for disturbing his peace died on his lips, though, when he registered the grim look on his bunk-mates face.  
“What is it now Lister, did you sit on your kebab again?” he tried, always wanting to insult before being insulted.  
But the man didn't answer him, he just slammed an obviously much used cassette tape on the table in front of him, causing tea to splash from Rimmer's mug. This annoyed Rimmer no end as some of the tea landed on his one a day luxurious biscuit, making it all soggy. Now Rimmer had to decide whether or not he should get a new biscuit: which would make his meticulous filing chart off or eat this one and feel disappointed for the rest of the day. No matter what choice he made, he knew his day was now ruined.  
“Look what you did you clumsy gimboid!” Rimmer spat, but Lister didn't hear.  
“Just listen to this, okay.” He said, pointing at the tape and with that the Scouser wanted to march back out again. But the hologram at the table wasn't about to let that happen.  
Dave Lister's inexplicable behavior riled Arnold J Rimmer just enough to make his nostrils flair wider than they'd done in weeks.  
“No … no I will not Dave Lister. What the smeg do you think you're playing at marching in here like the Spanish inquisition on a mission when I'm enjoying my quiet time and smashing a tape in front of me? And did you even notice that you soiled my treat? My one daily treat?! Do you know what happens to third technicians who ruin ...”

With an obvious weary sigh Lister turned around and stared at Rimmer with a long suffering glance.

“Just, just listen to it Arn.” He said tiredly, in a way that indicated he hoped this was enough.  
But it wasn't, all these words did was make Rimmer all the more suspicious. What was Lister playing at? Eyeing the tape with the suspicion of a jeweler certain the items he's been given are counterfeit, the hologram then addressed his bunkmate. “What's on it?” He asked tightly, looking up with a scowl.  
“Play it!” Lister insisted, obviously not wanting to give anything away.  
  
That was it, Rimmer was now certain Lister was playing one of his many pranks on him. He wasn't falling for it again, he had been far too gullible recently, even Kryten had been able to trick him.  
“Not without knowing what's on it.” _Yes Miladdo, I am not rising to the bait!_  
Rimmer was surprised to see Lister's shoulders droop “Why?” - He almost seemed sad. The hologram snorted: _yes, sad because his wonderful prank on me has failed!_  
  
“Anything might be on it. You might have recorded one of your farts – or worse; it could be you playing guitar!” Jutting his chin forward he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, facing his bunkmate challengingly.

A noticeable mixture of impatience and anger was starting to spread on Lister's face as he re-addressed the Second-technician. “Rimmer I'm not giving you something nasty, I swear. Just LISTEN!”  
At this moment Lister's clear impatience only helped to make Rimmer feel more superior.  
“Not unless you tell me what it is, Listy!” he smirked smugly. Checkmate. There, now hopefully that was the end of that.  
  
It wasn't. Lister rubbed his face in annoyance as he sighed and caved in. “It's a self-help tape.” He muttered softly.  
This reply was utterly unexpected and confused Rimmer so much his face went through several expressions of shocked and confused before it settled on baffled.  
  
“A what?” He asked, while he wallowed.  
  
“A self help tape ...” Lister repeated, “for dealing with trauma.” He added.  
  
What the smeg? What was Lister up to now? Rimmer felt panic rise inside of him.  
Was Lister joking about his mental health issues? Or worse had he … _noticed_ something and was this an intervention? No smegging way. He was acting Captain, in charge. There was no way he'd ever show weakness. He pushed the tape away from him so harshly it fell of the table.  
  
“I don't want it.” He growled and returned to his book, clenching his jaw.  
  
With a sigh Lister picked up the tape and sat himself down on the chair in front of his bunkmate.  
  
“Rimmer ...”

“Take it back, I don't need it, I'm perfectly fine.” The hologram huffed without looking at Lister. He clenched his jaw so much he could feel it twitch. 

“Fine? Are you smegging kidding me?” He heard Lister almost scream. First you almost get us imprisoned for life because you want to be an android, then your mind blows up a criticism extractor with it's self hate. For weeks after that you're grumpy and irritable with everyone, you're more neurotic and OCD than you've been in years and then you turn into a power crazed politician.”

Behind the safety of his book he internally cringed hearing his issues, his off kilter behavior, thrown back at him. On the outside he remained cold, sitting upright rigidly, not moving an inch except to casually turn a page he had not even read. Lister would not get him that easily.  
“So?” He shrugged.  
  
In front of him Lister sighed and continued.  
“Spending ages working on me, restoring my memory and then suddenly flipping out and leaving us?You call that fine?”  
  
“No better or worse than I usually am ...”  
  
“Then listen to it for my sake, Rimmer. 'Cause I can't take it anymore, seeing you like this.”

Now that was rich! Feeling anger shaking through his body Rimmer pressed his nails into the soft palms of his hands, trying to keep his calm. His vision blurring the letters of the book he still pretended to read disappeared. What was Lister on about? He didn't care about him, he didn't care for him at all!! That much had been clear to him the last few weeks: ever since they'd escaped from that stupid android ship Lister and Kryten had been joined at the hip. No time for old Rimsy, oh no. It hadn't so much annoyed him as much as it hurt him, he needed those talks. It was what kept him sane while trying to do the same for Lister. Even though he hated being alone, he had never felt close or at home with anyone until those years stuck in space with that stupid Scouser, his dimension skipping had driven that home to him.  
Now though, without him and their daily chats he had felt utterly lost. But he'd never let that on to Lister, oh no, he didn't deserve the satisfaction.  
Instead he'd been grumpy and short with him, to mask the hurt – to little effect, it just seemed to drive him even closer to that stupid jumped up damaged Ken doll of an android.

And now the little gimboid was claiming he did care for him and couldn't bare to see him in pain, the cheek of it!

“Like what? For smeg sake Lister, if you're that concerned about my well being why didn't you run with me in the elections?” That had hurt, especially the fact that Lister didn't seem to understand his connection to the machines; he was part machine. What kept him alive was a machine, the thing that buzzed where his heart should be was …  
He shivered; how could Lister know he felt that way? He still saw him as human and treated him like that. Rimmer had sort of demanded that of him all those years ago, and for a long time he'd felt grateful for the courtesy. But now … He had been a hologram for so much longer than he'd been alive. Sometimes he couldn't even remember what it was like to be truly human, what it was like without always feeling that slight static, without charging, the glitches, the breaking up. Sometimes, just like those vending machines, he felt he was taken for granted, like he was just a prop for everyone to play with. That was when he went into his moods, his grandstanding, when the rules, the regulations, the authority the … “Rimmering”, as his shipmates now called it, really came out. It had been a long time since it had been as bad as he'd been the past few days, though, even he knew that. Regression, relapse, whatever it was called when his brain went crazy, he hated it..  
Those elections had briefly given him a purpose, a hope to claw back some control, he desperately needed to have control of something, because he'd lost control of his mind. If Lister had ran with him instead of having to blackmail that stupid Cat into helping him, maybe he'd have stood a chance.  
Losing the elections had made him more determined to find a way of bettering himself, but even a different dimension couldn't bring him what he wanted.  
He raised a questioning eyebrow to Lister. Another sigh from the Scouser before he replied.  
  
“I didn't run with you, you smegger, because I knew you'd go crazy, you always do where power is concerned – especially now, as you were already on the verge of insanity.”  
  
Even Rimmer knew Lister had a point there, but he didn't respond, he just scowled. Still no reason to always pick Kryten over him. And still no reason to ...

“Okay, then explain; why did you leave me locked in the garbage with that insane toaster? Concerned about my mental health indeed.”  
  
Lister knew he was scared of the dark and claustrophobic – especially after being buried alive only recently. He had been terrified in there, alone, in the dark with that toaster rambling on forever. After five hours he'd wanted to smash it against the wall, to make it stop. But he couldn't; as he'd be completely alone then. Soon he'd started having flashbacks to Rimmerworld and begun believing he'd be locked in that basement forever.

Kryten had been the one to get him out, apologetic and for some reason quite aware how upsetting the experience had to be for him. Lister had been playing video games with the Cat, not even checking up on him till much later that day.  
  
“Rimmer smeg, I know. I am so, so sorry about that. I didn't know until the Cat told me – You needed a lesson and I thought you'd be fine with company. If I had know he left you in the dark …”

For a second Rimmer looked up. Yep, Listy looked sad enough. _Well, too smegging late!_ He tusked and returned to his book.

“Whatever you say, third technician.” He smarmed, raising three fingers for effect after which he turned his page as annoyingly slowly as possible.

“This,” Lister sounded upset now, “where is this coming from? Why are you belittling me like this? Using my grandmother and all that? It's been years since you were this cold to me …”  
  
With a start Rimmer looked up. Cold? Was Lister really thinking he was the one who was cold here? Oh that was rich! He was working his smegging but off to keep the ship in shape, to make sure Lister did something beyond drinking, eating and playing games. To make sure the idiotic Cat didn't make things worse. To make sure Kryten let Lister do things for himself once in a while. To make sure Lister didn't throw himself into danger to …  
  
_He.was.so.smegging.tired ..._  
  
He looked back down at his book. Once more tears pricked behind his eyes. No. He had to keep that in. No matter how tired and lonely it made him, Lister was not allowed to see his weakness.  
He would never reveal the reply burning inside his heart.

_I have to be hard on you Listy, because I hate fact that you're frittering your life away eating, drinking and playing stupid video games with that insane Cat! You could still make something of yourself, be someone you're proud of. I know that deep down inside that's what you want, because when ' your father' comes out it's all he talks about._

_I wish you understood, I wish it didn't drive you closer to that metal moron …  
  
He.was.so.smegging.tired ..._

Swallowing his tears back for the millionth time in his life and death he composed himself.  
“Doesn't Kryten need his oil changing, a metal massage maybe …?” He sang song, though there was an unmistakable quiver in his voice.  
He looked up just long enough to see that Lister had heard it too.

“Ah – you're jealous, is that it?” Lister almost grinned. “Am I spending too much time with Kryten?”  
  
Another pang of pain shot through Rimmer, he shook it away.

“Too much?” No, I wished you'd stay with him a bit more, I might be able to finish this book Why couldn’t Lister just smegging leave!!

“Okay, forget it. I'll go, if you promise to list-...” But Rimmer forced the tape back in Lister's hand.  
  
“Listy, those tapes don't work, believe me, I tried thousands. All they say is replace every negative thought by a positive one. And when negative thoughts do pop in, the therapist told me I had to say: 'Hello there negative thought, why don't you stand over there in the corner and someone will be right with you. Eventually', she said, 'those negative thoughts will get bored and then kind of wander off.' Well, mine got angry, grew stronger and attacked me.”  
  
Too personal, Rimmer's brain screamed. The Hologram quickly cleared his throat and made a big spectacle of returning to his book. But Lister wasn't that easily fooled, from the corner of his eyes Rimmer saw Lister's posture change, as did the look in his eye. It reminded him of the look someone gave a lost child they found on the street. Or a cute dog that was waiting at a shop. Oh God, was he so pathetic he now earned glances like that?  
Lister stepped closer, his posture now filled with guilt.  
  
“I did, didn't I? I did ignore you. You needed to talk as much as Kryten and I didn't see. Rimmer, I'm so sorry.”

As Rimmer looked up he saw it: Lister meant it, he cared: not casually, not because he had to: he was genuinely concerned, about him.

And with that the tension between the two men was broken. Rimmer felt the release he had yearned for in the weeks without Lister as the man sat down and placed his hand on his. The kind gesture drew a sigh from Rimmer followed by a soft; “I'm sorry too. I … I've been a gimboid for the last few weeks. My brain was put trough the wringer and …” He stopped. Maybe this was too much too soon. “Don't”, his brain insisted; “don't show him how grateful you are that he's back. It's a weakness.” All the while his heart sang; “I've got my Listy back!” Unsure of himself he pulled back his hand and moved away.  
“Rimmer?” Lister asked, obviously confused by the erraticness of his behavior. “Rimmer, you okay man?”

No reply, Rimmer didn't know what to say. Was he okay? He doubted it. Could he tell Lister? He didn't know. Over the years his mental health had become slightly better and he had found it easier to talk, but his inner most feelings were still kept private. Still Lister seemed to have guessed that he wasn't doing well, as he wouldn't have come to bring him the tape. Should he talk to him, open up again? He sighed.  
  
“Lister … I … There are things I need to …” He shook his head, this was so hard for him,  
  
“It's okay. I'm here whenever you need to talk.”

Rimmer closed his eyes, trying to force his way through everything he wished he could say, wanted to say but the words would not come. He looked at Lister with apologetic eyes.  
  
“After all those years together, I don't know why it would still be so hard for me. It's not as if you could really tell anyone.” He muttered, feeling he was letting Lister down by not letting him in.

But Lister gave him a supportive smile.  
“Hey, with the life you had, even before coming on board, it's understandable. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, mate.”

Looking down at his hands Rimmer swallowed. “I thought you didn't care about me … you hardly responded when I said I wanted to go.”  
  
“That's because I knew you'd be back.” He heard the voice of the man opposite him say matter of factly.  
Rimmer’s head shot up: “What …?” He found Lister smegging smirking at him, a small twinkle in his eyes.  
  
“You're like a smegging boomerang mate.”

That was something Rimmer didn’t like to hear: did Lister really think it was like that: whatever happened, however he was treated he’d just always return to him? No, no way!!  
“I … I nearly stayed … twice …” Rimmer forced out.  
It had the desired effect: Lister’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.  
  
“Where?” He exclaimed. “Why?!”

A sigh as Rimmer shifted his focus to his hands again and began fidgeting slightly.  
  
“There was a dimension where you … got me. Really got me. You had the same hobbies and I could just … unwind, I could be me.”

A hand was slowly placed on his. He looked up: disappointed pleading eyes met his own.  
  
“Wait, Arn, what …? What do you mean you could be 'you'?”  
  
“Well, I … could talk about my hobbies and things I enjoy without you smirking. I could talk for ages and you weren't bored. It was such a relief not to be ' smeghead Rimmer' for a change or knowing I don't have to lock myself in a bunkroom on G deck for a Morris dance. I know it isn't cool but …”

He cringed and curled in on himself. Now Lister would laugh, he was sure. But no, Lister sat in silence, his eyes moist.  
  
“So … why did you leave … that me?” He asked, after a while.  
  
Rimmer shrugged.  
  
“Well, I knew it wasn't real and … he owned a giant humanized rat that liked to sleep with him. I enjoy listening to 'Ben' as much as the next man, but I have my limits.”  
  
He tried joking. This was getting to deep and he needed to relieve the tension. But once again Lister didn’t laugh.

“Hey, don't do that …” He said softly.  
  
“What?” Rimmer sighed.  
  
“Laugh it off, you always do that: open up about something and laugh it off. If you feel you can't really be yourself with us … that hurts Arn. I never knew that and I don't want you to feel that way. I'm free to do whatever the smeg I like ...”

Once again Rimmer fekt a jolt of pain and anger. Why couldn’t Lister get it?  
  
“Yes, because Cat and Kryten like your … smeg … No-one likes telegraph poles, Morris dancing, Hammond organs or Risk … I only just got you to play Minenopoly with me.” He hoped it was finally clear, even to someone as dense and positive as Lister.  
  
Lister sighed, seemingly resigned.  
  
“Tell you what … maybe … maybe every erm … Wednesday could be Rimmer night again? You can choose an activity and we'll go along.”  
  


_We’ll go along?  
  
_Seriously? That was the solution? Rimmer snorted. He was done with it.  
  
“Lister, for smegs sake. that's just humoring me, it's not the same. Look, it's obvious you're the only one who can stand me. That's fine. I'm done, I want to go to bed now. I'm knackered.”  
  
He wasn’t lying, he felt as if he’d just ran two marathons, discussing your feelings was more taxing than the time “Queeg” had exercised him.

He wanted to get up but Lister grabbed his arm, pushing him back to the chair.  
  
“Rimmer, come on, you really think that after all these years ...”  
  
Couldn’t Lister see that he was done with this? No matter how he tried explaining what was wrong he just didn’t seem to get it. Fed up with it Rimmer snapped at his bunkmate far angrier than he wanted to be.

“Smeg off Lister, the Cat can't go five seconds without insulting me or wishing me dead and I'm sure I'm not liked by an Android who in all the years I've been hardlight never once asked me what I'd like for diner or made me breakfast.”  
  
There, he’d said it. Now what?

“Rimsy …” Lister said, sounding disappointed.

“The Cat's got his own smegging milk fridge, I don't even get a piece of toast.” Rimmer grumbled.

“If you want your own toaster there's a great one in the trash room …” Now Lister was the one making light of it.

“Sure joke why don't ya …” Rimmer smirked.

Lister got up and started pacing again, seemingly annoyed and confused.

“What's your point Rimmer? You're not a foody, all you do is eat cheese toasties or boring cornflakes.”  
  
A sigh escaped Rimmer that seemed to come from the deepest regions of the universe. Now he would just say it all, he didn’t care anymore.

“It would just be nice if I was asked, or even included. I … I would love certain things if they were offered.”

Suddenly Lister seemed to get it, and he sat down again.  
  
“Wha’ … but …?” He began, setting himself closer as Rimmer nodded.  
  
“What, you mean all those years you just didn't have real dinners because …” Lister just shook his head.

“Because well … why bother if it's just for me? If I'm hungry I just make a quick sandwich or cornflakes. I'd feel like an utter gimboid cooking just for me or asking if I can have a bite with Kryten sniggering behind my back. I still have some pride left …”

This was a lot for Lister to take in.

“Smeg, Rimmer, I never even considered … I'm sure it's not meant like that. Wow … I'm so sorry.”  
  
“What are you sorry for? You're not the goit doing it.”

Rimmer shrugged, Lister wasn’t at fault here.

But Lister clearly felt rather differently, amd looked like he was close to tears.

“Yes, but I am the goit who didn't notice that you felt you were being excluded, _again_. And I am the goit who'd almost lost his best …”

Rimmer raised his eyebrows, his heart beating faster. Would Lister say it, the word he so longed to hear? Sadly Lister didn't: he just closed his eyes, shook his head, swallowed and sighed.

“Next time … just tell me ...”  
  
“Tell you what?” Rimmer croaked hoarsely now, regretting the moment that had been and gone.  
  
“How you feel Rimmer, all this … Every six months you explode and we have this whole event of you wanting to leave because you never tell us you're upset or hurting. Why do you still want to be an officer so smegging badly?”  
  
More things to discuss? Rimmer wasn’t in the mood anymore. He shrugged.

“Because … respect isn't just given … it has to be earned …”

“Says who …” Lister frowned.

“Well … everyone, Listy; my parents, my teachers, the JMC, my books …”

“But who are you trying to impress?” Lister continued.

Rimmer felt confused. Wasn’t it obvious? “Well ...you guys … you …”

“Me??” Lister seemed appalled.

“Of course, you gimboid … I'm still supposed to be your superior. The one to keep you sane, the one …”

“Why do you think I don't respect you Rimmer? It's the one thing I always did.”

“Don't mock me … There was this other dimension … smeg, you respected me there, not here.”

“Don't you remember Rimsy, I told Todhunter back then.”  
That was some cheek. Did Lister really think he’d swallow that smeg?  
  
“No, you said, and I quote; ' I try and respect Rimmer, but it's not easy, 'cause he's such a smeghead.'”

That got Lister, he looked absolutely gobsmacked.  
  
“Smeg sake. You held on to that for all those years? Rimmer, I respect you. You don't have to prove anything. I always did. My grandma always said respect is given, until proven otherwise. You never lost mine, not even at your most smeggiest.”  
  
For a moment Rimmer felt himself deflated, the joy of owning Lister gone. Why was Lister saying this. He knew it was a lie. He knew because ...

“There is nothing to respect …” He muttered. Finally accepting the harsh reality.

“What? Why do ya think I shouldn't respect you?”

“Because I'm useless, how can you respect something useless? Don’t you see? I want to be good enough … for you. I want to impress you, raise you up, I want you to make something of yourself Lister; it's my mission. I don't want you distracted from alarms by video games, I don't …”

He just didn’t know anymore and put his face in his hands.  
Within seconds Lister had squatted in front of him, removing his hands so he could look at him.  
  
“No, Rimmer, no. For smeg sake. I don't want you punishing yourself for me.”  
  
“I'm not punishing myself.” Rimmer whispered in a small voice.  
  
“Yes, you are. You're putting yourself through smeg just because you think it'll help me. I don't want you doing that anymore, you hear me? I'll try and be more responsible, even read, if you promise you stop going on about that officer stuff.”  
  
Silence.

“Rimmer, promise me: start looking after yourself and I’ll listen to you more. Come on. Wadda ya say? Deal?”

With a sigh Rimmer sat up to focus on Lister. “Deal.” He resigned, knowing that he would give this a lot of thought.

Silence.  
Lister returned to his chair, Rimmer returned to his nervous fidgeting.  
Then Lister spoke again.

“So what was it you threw away in that dimension? That perfect life of yours where I respected you?”

Rimmer smiled, it was so silly looking back. “I was an Officer and a gentleman, I was married and had four children, all boys.”

Why did Lister look so appalled?

“So basically you were your dad …?” He looked disgusted,

_My dad?_

_SMEG!!_  
  
“Well ...” He started nervously, biting his nail.  
  
“Rimmer, you smegger: you're still not going for your own goals! That's what blocking you; what does Arnold want?!!”

And with that he broke. He knew the one thing he truly wanted, more than anything.  
  
“Peace Listy … I'm so tired ...”

“Tired?”

A nod as the hologram explained, “You keep forgetting; I'm over six-hundred years old … My brain just … messes up sometimes from too much living. Sometimes it's as if I'm not me anymore and I start acting like an idiot hoping to get my control back. Everything just gets too much and it's just …” He waved his hands trying to find the right words but couldn’t, so he settled on “...exhaustion.”  
  
A n understanding smile from Lister.  
  
“Tell me that next time Arn. It's okay to say you're not okay. I'll understand if you need some space. Take a break if you feel overstretched. There's no shame in taking a mental health break.”  
  
“A mental health break?” Rimmer repeated sarcastically. What the smeg was that gimboid talking about.

The ‘gimboid’ nodded as he explained.  
  
“Yeah, don’t knock it mate. It’ll do ya the world of good. A mental health break means some time to get your head back together. Stay in bed for a few days or take the Skutters on a Diesel Deck trip or something. And then take this tape with you.”  
  
And there they were, that smegging tape again.

“Why do you think that tape will help me?” Rimmer sighed, not wanting the discussion to repeat itself again as if they’d entered another smegging White Hole.

It seemed as if Lister felt the same but didn’t want to let on. He thought for a second.  
  
“Look, I know you're gonna need to work through 700 years of smeg, but this tape is different trust me  
it really helped me when things got bad.” He offered.

What? Rimmer felt a shock going through him. “You used this tape? I never heard you play anything but noise or receive Kryten crisis talk. When was that?”  
  
Had he neglected Lister too? What had he missed?

“No, true.” Lister muttered, a glum look in his eyes. “You never heard it as … you weren’t there to hear it.”  
  
Rimmer frowned as Lister went on, his voice quieter than Rimmer ever heard it.

“When you really went away … things went wrong for me.”

Another shiver went through Rimmer. When he really went away … he'd almost forgotten his unhappy days as Ace. Glamour? What a lie. Endless hours alone in a small space ship with a starry eyed computer that kept talking in platitudes. His T count through the roof every time he went on a mission and the rewards … To his amazement he didn't care for it; the girls and boys that threw themselves at him. He didn't want to be loved for the person he wasn't.

All he'd wanted was a place to call home with someone who knew him, someone who cared.

His place wasn't jumping dimensions in space, his place was with Lister, that's why he'd been chosen as a hologram in the first place.  
“Things went wrong … without me?” Rimmer repeated, his voice a quiver. Could this be true? Lister had never said he’d missed him back then.

To his surprise Lister actually wiped his eyes. Then the Scouse quickly forced a smile.

“Well, don't get cocky Arn, but yeah … I lost it a bit: missing you, my babies, human race, finding out I'm me own dad, new Kochanski.”  
  
That was Rimmer noted. Why had Lister never told him?  
“Listy … I …” What could he say? “You never said, don't forget; I am here to keep you sane.”

“Well, you never said anything either.” Came the retort.

Rimmer rolled his eyes and sighed again. “That's because I thought I should hide it from you. You always seem so together, so strong. I didn't want to burden you, drag you down! If you had told me you needed help too ...”

A small snigger from Lister. “Smeg … Rimmer … I wanted to hide stuff from you because I thought I'd make things worse for you!”

Rimmer snorted too. Were they really having this discussion? But ...

“No, no, it would have helped me, knowing I wasn't alone.”  
  
For a second they both laughed.  
“Well … look at us … two stupid smegheads.” Lister grinned finally.  
  
Rimmer uttered one more little chuckle, “two useless gimboids.” He agreed.

Two dark brown hopeful eyes met his. “Okay, you wanna listen to that tape together and talk?”  
  
He might as well. Rimmer thought. What harm could it be. It would be nice to spend some more time with Lister.

“If you insist.” He said. “But I think I'll get a new biscuit first …” He could allow himself a little cheat, could’t he?  
  
“Brutal!!” Lister cheered as he stood up and punched Rimmer’s shoulder playfully. He looked as if a weighed had fallen of his shoulders. Then he grinned as Rimmer stood up to accompany him to the Rest and Relaxsation Deck.  
  
“But aye, sod the stupid biscuit Rimmer,” Lister sang sung as they walked out the door. “I'm getting ya a cupcake and a fresh cuppa and … tomorrow we're having a big snacks day. All the stuff you wanted over the years in little bite sized portions. Well, what do ya think?”

“That all sounds very pleasant indeed, Listy.” The hologram replied happily.  
Then he felt a warm friendly arm around his shoulder and for the first time in weeks Arnold J Rimmer truly smiled.


End file.
